Four Minutes of Self-Destruction
by Tashana Ambrosia
Summary: This is Seth dealing/not dealing with Kate's death. Post-Season two and pre-Season three. Seth is dealing/not dealing with Kate's post-season death; he's just not emotionally equipped for any of these things. Richie's trying to be a supportive brother and trying to help. Seth finds Kate's cross at the Bloodwell and takes it back to Bethel. Angst Warning. Rating for language.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own From Dusk 'Til Dawn, nor am I gaining profit from this story. These characters belong to the authors of their original creation and their re-imagining.

 **Notes:** Could stand on its own, but is really a follow-up piece to ""Please; This Is As Far As We Go."

Major ANGST! Seth is not happy with himself - nor should he be after what he planned to do in that last part of "Please; This Is As Far As We Go." This is just Seth regretting everything in the wake of Kate's Season-Two death.  
This was so rough to write. I'm trying to decide if I want to write a follow-up to this.

Feedback is always welcome (in any form) and makes the writer inspired and joyful.

 **Four Minutes of Self-Destruction**

" _He scared me."_

" _I forgive you."_

" _You want some company?"_

" _Why? Why are you doing this? I don't understand." Her voice cracked..._

" _You need a partner."_

" _STOP THE GODDAMN CAR!"_

.:.

He couldn't hear anything, but the shadow of her words as he pressed his hands against the opulent desk. It was like his senses were shutting down, like getting high, but the complete opposite. Instead of feeling light and euphoric it was heavy, impossibly heavy as every moment of pain he'd caused her played on repeat in brilliant fucking technicolor. His brother's voice played over top of the memories, like a twisted narrator. ' _Because he killed Kate…. I used her? What about your little drugstore cowboy routine?'_ He tried to get rid of her, tried to put her on the path back home. Why had she been at the Bloodwell? How had she known about the Well? The Well… Fuck! She was still there. Fuck it all to hell!

He flew out of the office and up to the Jed's restaurant front. He started looking for keys; he just needed a set of damn keys. He started ripping drawers open behind the bar, yanking them with enough force to take them off their tracks. He routed through each one and dropped them to the floor after he didn't find any keys.

He had quite a pile going when he heard Richie's angry voice over the din. "The fuck are you doing?! We've only had this place for five minutes. Do you have to destroy everything you touch?"

"I need keys." Seth didn't look up from his search, his heart seizing in his chest. He desperately drew in a long breath. He destroyed everything he touched…everything and everyone.

"So ask for a set like an adult." Richie held out a set of keys, "Here, go get whatever is so damn important that you've got destroy _my_ bar."

"Where's Scott?" Seth snatched the keys from Richie's hand.

"How the hell should I know?" Richie arched an eyebrow. "Why do you even care? It's not like…"

"'Cause I'm going to get her body." Seth growled cutting his brother off and Richie stilled instantly. "I ain't leavin' her out there. She deserves better than that…Deserves to be buried."

"She shouldn't even be dead. And she wouldn't be if it wasn't for you fucking kidnapping us." Scott had emerged from somewhere within Jed's his dark eyes narrowing at the brothers.

The Geckos were silent: no one-liners and no speeches to answer the orphaned culebra, who was truly alone in the world.

Scott wrapped a scarf around his face and shoved Seth forward. "Drive me out there. I have to stay out of the sun."

"I'll…" Richard started, but Scott cut him off.

"You'll stay here. You let her get to the well. As far as I'm concerned you're as guilty as Carlos." Scott jerked his thumb at Seth, "I need a human to drive, or I wouldn't be letting him anywhere near her body either."

"How was I supposed to stop her? She took off running to save _you_." Richie clenched his fists as his side and took a step towards Scott.

Scott shifted his shoulders and held his ground, "Yeah, 'cause the five inches and fifty pounds plus you've got on her, wouldn't have given you _any_ way to control her."

"What should I have done, Scott? Should I have Duct taped her wrists and ankles and locked her in the trunk of the car?"

"Well you should have done something! You let her die!"

"You didn't do anything to stop that either. You should have turned…"

"Shut. Up." Seth whispered there was something in the odd calm of his voice that made the other two stop instantly. "Richie, just stay here. She was his sister, this is his call. Come on, Scott, let's go get her." Seth's body felt so heavy. He wanted to sleep. He wanted blackness; wanted nothingness. But he wasn't going to rest until he made this right the only way he could.

The drive to the Bloodwell was silent, Scott occasionally grunting and shifting to make sure he stayed away from the direct sun.

"You need to take the next right." Scott's voice was muffled under the scarf.

Seth took the turn, "I'll call the ranger. We'll get somethin' drawn up so we can take her back home. Bury her with your folks." The words felt heavy as lead.

"My mom." Scott snipped.

"Huh?" Seth questioned, before he remembered why Scott needed to correct him. He bit the inside of is cheek, needing the pain to keep himself focused on the road.

"My dad never left the Twister."

"I forgot about that, so…"

"Don't." Scott growled. "Don't fucking apologize. I killed him."

"She said…"

" _I_ killed him. I'm the one who bit him, that's when he died." Scott hit the door, cracking part of the paneling. "When did Kate talk to you about that?"

"We left the Twister together." Seth admitted, knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.

"Why?"

"I've asked myself that a hundred times. Never came up with a good answer to that one." The road dead-ended and they sat in silence for a full minute. "Right or left?"

"Left." Scott shifted again. "This is all your fault. All of it."

"I know."

Seth knew it was his fault. His stupid plan. His stupid thought that he could be handed a job that would let him retire; his stupid belief that he could actually help Richie. Carlos handed him a job that any rookie would have seen through, but he went for it. When it went south, when Richie was off the rails and there was clearly something wrong with the job, he still hadn't called it. He'd let his own ambition keep him moving towards that thirty-mil', ignoring every warning bell in his head.

He'd seen her driving that RV and her little innocent face was perfect. No border agent would ever question the little girl-next-door. He should have let them go once they got to the Twister. Why had he been such a prick? Why had he kept them? And after everything, all the shit they'd gone through in that hellhole, and everything they'd lost, he fucking stole her again. He should have thrown her ass in that RV; never should have let her go with him. He took and he took and he took from that sweet girl, that beautiful, loving girl. Hurt her so badly. Then he abandoned her, when he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that she was going to keep plunging into darkness. He was too weak to take care of her. She'd died because of him.

Everything was his fucking fault.

"It's right up here." Scott pointed out the tower in the distance, skin sizzling in the sun.

"Careful." Seth bumped the kids arm down, "Don't want you catching on fire."

"'Cause that would be such a terrible thing for me to die." The kid slumped down in the seat. "Such a loss for the world."

"She loved you." Seth cleared his throat, "She kept looking for ways to help you. She didn't give up you. You need to remember that."

"She did at the end. She died hating me." Scott sniffed under the scarf, "Take this turn off, the trail's rough."

"Look, Scott.."

"Don't, please. I can't… I just can't." He covered his face with his hands.

A white blanket blew by the car as Seth pulled up next to the RV and turned off the car. They sat in silence neither wanting to get out of the car, neither wanting to think about why they were here. The sun was high in the sky, there was no cover, barely and shadows for Scott to hide in. He cleared his throat, "I'll get her, I don't want you…"

"She's my sister." Scott bailed out of the car, hissing at the sun, but continuing to move.

Seth jogged over to snatch the blanket from blowing away. He'd need something to wrap her in, something to cover…

"What the fuck?!" Scott's voice broke through the quiet.

Seth pivoted back around and watched Scott race into the RV, nearly ripping the door from the hinges.

"Scott?" He paused before stepping up into the RV, unwanted memories flaring up. "Scott, what's wrong?"

Scott was sitting on the couch of the RV, scarf pulled off his face. Tears running down the kids face. "Kate's gone."

"I know…"

"No, her body's gone. She was on the platform…" Scott looked up at him, "covered with the sheet you have in your hand."

Seth looked at the blanket in his hand, resisting the urge to drop it to the ground. "Something might have dragged her off, coyote or something."

Scott scoffed, "Did you see any blood? And drag marks?"

"I didn't really look."

"Well there weren't. I saw; I looked. I would have smelled her blood. A scavenger would have torn her to pieces. She'd…She'd be in pieces." Scott stood and looked Seth in the eye. "Leave."

"Kid, I can help…"

"Help?!" Scott's eyes flashed; fangs bared as he threw Seth up against the wall of the RV. "I don't want _your_ help. I want you to leave. I want you to take your useless ass and go back to your psychopathic brother and leave me the fuck alone. You've _helped_ more than enough."

Normally Seth would have lost his temper at being thrown around and he sure as hell would have given this kid a piece of his mind, but he deserved this. He disentangled himself from Scott and stepped out of the RV, ignoring the sounds of destruction that started immediately after the door slammed shut. He paced the platform and knelt at the stains near the edge.

She died right here, bled out. He punched the platform, his knuckles splitting against the wood. God damn-it! God damn-it, all to fucking hell!

A glint of gold caught his attention. He lifted the tiny gold cross up from the between the wooden slats.

" _Almost forgot your badge, Sister Christian."…"Ha,ha." Their conversation in a Mexican motel room echoed in his mind._

He held the necklace in his hand, this was special to her. She was never without it; never. He needed to give it to Scott. Sounds of destruction were still spilling out of the RV, but that didn't stop him from banging his broken knuckles against the door. Blood marked the door, standing out against the almond colored door. Why were all RVs the same stupid color?

"Leave." Scott hissed from behind the door.

Seth cleared his throat, "Scott, I found…"

"If it isn't her body, then leave." A thud sounded against the door. He imagined that was Scott's head hitting the metal, the kid sounded completely defeated.

Seth wrapped the cross around his hand, too afraid that if he left it hanging from the door, Scott wouldn't notice it. He'd keep it for now, keep it safe; make sure nothing happened to it. He lingered for another few minutes, looking at the last things that she saw before she died. He trudged back to the car and slumped into the driver's seat.

He started to unwrap the cross, deciding that it would be better sitting in the cup holder then on his hand. He looked at the delicate piece of jewelry and realized that it was covered with blood. He frantically untucked his dress shirt, so he could use his undershirt to wipe the blood from it. It couldn't be covered in blood; she should have never been covered in blood.

 _The blood that had been caked her in hair had made red rivers down her face, and he yanked the teenager out of her seat and into the rain, "Christ, Kate." He growled as lightening lit up the sky. "I didn't let you get in the car with me so I could watch you play three faces of fucking Eve. So you either screw your head on straight or…"_

 _She threw her arms his neck and started to sob. "Please." Her breath was hot on his neck in sharp contrast to the cold rain. "Please, don't leave me. I lost everything."_

All he could think was how wrong she'd been that night. She hadn't lost everything; she still had her life, which now had been taken from her. He finally got the cross clean, inspecting it to make sure, before leaning back against the leather seat. He inhaled through his mouth and exhaled through his nose, his heart was pounding again he needed to calm down. He looped the cross over the rearview mirror and started the long drive back to Jed's.

.:.

" _Why? Why are you doing this? I don't understand." Her voice cracked, so hurt; so fucking broken. "Why are you saying these things?"_

.:.

Seth heaved for air as he woke from the nightmare of her voice and her teary green eyes. It wasn't even the last time he'd seen her, when he'd abandoned her, it was memory of her heart shattering. He ran his hands through his sweat-soaked hair and looked at the clock, _oh good, he'd managed to sleep a whole three hours_. He climbed out of bed and pulled the pistol out from under his pillow, the little golden chain wrapped around the hilt, catching the light from the digital alarm. He stomped over to the switch and flicked it on, flooding the room with florescent light. He unwrapped the chain and held the tiny cross in his hand for four minutes, as his mind replayed every fight, every time he'd hurt the girl. _I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry_.

He rewrapped the chain over the gun and started his workout routine; he was up so he might as well. He was halfway through his sit-ups when a knock wrapped against the door. "Yeah?" He barked out continuing his count.

"You awake?" Richie's voice questioned.

"Nope, talking in my sleep." He breathed heavy as the door opened.

"You need to sleep more." Richie looked down at him, before his eyes narrowed on Seth's pistol. "And you need to stop carrying that around."

"You still got that tennis bracelet in your sock drawer." Seth pointed out.

Richie huffed, "I _paid_ two grand for that bracelet, gave it to my _girlfriend_ , she gave it back, and it sits in that drawer. There is nothing intrinsically odd about that. That cross is nothing but guilt, you need to get rid of…"

Seth was on his feet and had Richie shoved against the wall, before the younger Gecko could even react. "I'm not fucking throwing it out. She deserves better than that. Better than what we did to her; better than what _I_ did to her." There was no power in the grip he had on Richie's shirt and he drew in a deep, shaky breath. "She deserved to be buried, Richard. We owed her that much. _I_ owed her that much." His voice cracked and he pushed away from his brother starting to pace in the room.

"There was no body, Seth. If her body woulda been there, we woulda have buried her." Richie rationalized, straightening his shirt.

"Coulda, Shoulda, fucking woulda. Just goddamn empty promises." Seth threw the glass he'd been drinking from against the wall, it shattered instantly.

"44." Richard noted dryly.

"Huh?"

"That's the 44th glass you've broken in 24 days." Richie sighed. "Breaking the glassware is not helping." Seth opened his mouth to say something, but Richie continued, "What's gonna help, is this." He held out a manila envelope towards Seth, who snatched it out of his hand.

"What is it?" Seth opened it and pulled out some official documents.

"Your original plan from when she..." Richie cleared his throat, "What that is, is an accident report, official death certificates for the three members of the Fuller family that died in Mexico, and the purchased plots with headstones in a graveyard Bethel, Texas. The pastor's stone will be shared with his wife, Scott's stone on one side and Kate's on the other. The number to their church is in there too. You can arrange the memorial service with the acting pastor." Richie looked down at his phone as the obnoxious theme from "Walking Dead" rang out.

Seth glared at the papers in his hand. "Leave me to do the dirty work."

Richie arched an eyebrow, "I'd probably catch on fire in a church. Also, you should bury the cross in her casket. It'll help with closure."

Seth again opened his mouth to argue, but Richie was already talking to whoever just called him. He looked at the papers… He'd call the church in a few hours. He couldn't lay her body to rest, but at least there would be a service. He looked at the cross wrapped around his pistol grip and knew he had to let it go. She wasn't his and it wasn't fair to keep her with him.

.:.

" _Why? I don't understand. Why are you doing this?" Her voice cracked, so hurt; so fucking broken. "Why are you saying these things? You're just like those monsters."_

.:.

He wasn't big on church people, huge shock, he was aware. But the new pastor of Bethel Baptist seemed like a stand-up guy, even if he was naïve enough to buy Seth's P.I. story about how he found out about the Fullers. They were holding the memorial service tomorrow; three basically empty caskets would be buried at two in the afternoon, rain or shine. Forecast said pouring rain, it would be fitting. If there was a God, He should cry for her. Bethel was a small town and word of a P.I. from Houston bringing back news of the lost family had spread like wildfire. Random people kept walking up to him and thanking Seth _Parker_ and his brother for good work they did. The local pawn shop owner brought Jacob's wedding ring to him, said that should be buried in ex-pastor's coffin and Seth agreed. Richie suggested Scott's adoption papers with a picture of the family for his casket, even though the youngest Fuller was still alive, sort of.

Seth's skin had been crawling the entire time they were in the Fuller's house, he felt like a damn grave robber. Richie was more cavalier about the whole thing, exploring the house with his normal curiosity until he moved towards _her_ room. Seth slammed the door in Richie's face, barring his brother from entering. He growled about how neither of them should take a single step into her space, they'd taken enough from her. Her cross was going in the coffin and that was enough.

He left Richie at the motel, it was crappy and backwater, so Richie had done nothing but complain about it. Seth told him to go bite someone and get over it. He drove for over an hour in silence, eyes flicking from the cross hanging on the rearview mirror to the map in the passenger seat until he reached his destination. The place wasn't much to look at from the outside, storage containers flanking the rundown, roadhouse style building with the faded sign and there wasn't much of anything near the business. If this place hadn't been so highly recommended, he would have turned the car west and driven another hour to Big Springs.

He parked the car and walked in asking for Abigail. An older woman with soft brown eyes came out from around the counter and extended her hand to him. He handed her the cross and she turned it over in her hand, examining it carefully. "You sure about this, Sugar?" Her southern Texas drawl made him relax unconsciously.

"Yeah." He nodded.

"Have a seat over in the corner. I'll be right with ya."

.:.

 _She was sitting in his black henley from last night with the money spread out on the bed, counting her take. Her hair was all mussed up from sleep and her green eyes were bright, she looked like 'Good morning.' She looked like what he wanted to see every morning when he woke up. She gave him this sly 'how-you-doing' smile and he wanted to flash her one right back, throw her down on that bed, and make her cry out his name with all that cash under her, but he couldn't do any of those things._

 _She scrabbled off the bed and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly whispering that she was kinda worried when she woke up and he was gone. He wanted to hug her back, wanted to wrap his arms around her and apologize into her hair, but he stayed stock still, arms at his sides. It only took her half-a-moment before she noticed his lack of reaction and she pulled away from him, looking him in the eye. She asked him if he was alright and he snipped that he was fine, that he had to walk back here from the other side of town because someone stole their car. She lamented about their luck, but told him that she had 7500 sitting on the bed and they could just steal another car._

 _He couldn't even remember how he'd started the fight, but they were going back and forth in a flash. He was being an asshole, but she was pushing back despite her confusion at his sudden change in attitude._

 _Then the final straw, "Come on, Kate, you're just a kid."_

 _She slapped him across the face._

 _He was almost relieved at her anger; if she stayed angry then she wouldn't cry. He didn't think of her as a kid, I mean she was young, but she wasn't… She was perfect and she wasn't for him; because perfect and him just didn't go together. He shouldn't have done what he did with her. He shouldn't let it have gotten as far as it had. But he'd wanted it, wanted that contact, but it was even more than that. He'd wanted her. He wanted every bit of what happened last night and now he was doing everything in his power to make sure it never happened again. He hated this. He hated hurting her. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want this. He wanted to go back to that four minutes that she was his, but he couldn't._

" _You asshole!"_

" _That shouldn't be news, Sweetheart. 'Kidnapped your whole family." He leaned back against the hotel room door. Play the part, give her the speech; be the asshole. Don't let her see you break. Don't let her see how much this fucking hurts; how much you don't want to lose the only connection that you've got left._

.:.

The needle dug into the soft part of his hip and he grunted without meaning to.

Abigail's drawl was more evident as her voice softened, "You need a break?"

He shook his head, "I can take it." What he meant was: I deserve it.

"You want all this detail?"

He nodded and closed his eyes, trying to block out her sympathetic eyes. He didn't deserve anyone's sympathy, he deserved to be shot.

.:.

" _Why? Why are you doing this? I don't understand." Her voice cracked, so hurt; so fucking broken. "Why are you saying these things? You're just like those monsters."_

 _He wasn't sure why that made him snap, but it did. Something about the way she said it, made his rage switch snap. Fuck, he knew there was something so wrong about this even as he was doing it. "I'm not like those things, but I am a criminal and that's something you'll never be. You know why, 'cause you couldn't handle it."_

" _I can learn…" Tears rolled down the girl's cheeks._

" _No you can't, Kate. You know why? Let me show you!" He pulled the gun out from the back of his pants taking out all the bullets except for one. He snapped it closed, spun the chamber and cocked it, before smacking it into her hands. Stop! Stop your fucking self; don't be_ _ **him,**_ _goddamnit… He was no better than his drunk, pathetic father, bullying a woman, who wasn't fighting back._

" _What are you doing?" She was looking from his face to the gun in her own hands._

 _He pressed the gun to his stomach, gripping her hand to keep it on the gun. "Tacoma. First guy I killed. He was guard in a bank, he flipped his hero switch into the on position and I shot him in the gut, right here." He forced the barrel further harder into his gut, tightening his grip on her hands as she gasped. "You know how long it takes for someone to bleed out from a wound like that? I'll give you a hint, it's not quick. He bled out, while my brother cracked the vault, and I stepped over his body when we strolled out of that bank. I never blinked about him dying at my feet. You think you can do that?"_

 _The guard's name was Harold Sims he was 32, had black hair, brown eyes, and he smelled like black coffee and chew. Harold wasn't married, he didn't have any kids, and still lived with his mother._

" _I…I…" She'd been crying, but now she was so scared her tears had stopped._

 _He dropped to his knees and forced her to press the gun against his temple. "Carson City. Second guy I killed, the guy double crossed me and Richie on a job. He decided that since Richie and I are brothers, he should get half instead a third like we agreed on. He put a gun to Richie's head but I pulled my trigger first, and I blew his brains out. The night before we had dinner with his old lady and his kid and that, that is what this life really is. You gonna be able to pull the trigger and kill a person, if it comes down to it?!"_

 _Richie hadn't liked Jamie from day one, thought he was spaz, which was saying something. But Jamie had worked at the jewelry store for almost six months and knew the security system inside and out. Heather, Jamie's wife, had made them chili before the heist and she'd had their son, Lucas, on her hip, when she made Seth promise that Jamie would come home safe. He'd left Jamie's cut in Heather's car and never told his brother._

 _She was crying again, "Seth, please, I …" He cut her off, wouldn't let her sway him with that 'please,' it was too late. He'd already gone too far._

 _ **Quit your crying you brat. I'll give you something to cry about. Drive you out to the woods leave you and your retard brother out there to the wolves. This is a fucking teachable moment. Learn something for once. You love it and it dies. Don't forget that.**_

 _He jerked her down to ground with him. "No. No 'please' this time." He shoved the gun against his chest, barrel over his heart. "I killed for my family and you can't do that. I know you can't, because you holding a loaded gun on the man that ruined your life and you ain't doing anything about it."_

 _Pull the trigger. Pull the fucking trigger, I deserve it. I took and I took and I took. I'm a bastard, a fucking bastard; I'm just like my father and I deserve to burn in hell. I deserve to be shot. I'm worthless and there ain't no one gonna mourn me. No one should._

 _He narrowed his eyes at her, as if he was one holding the gun. "I got your whole family killed and you're not gonna pull the trigger like you fucking should. I destroyed your whole world. Why aren't you doing something about it? You aren't doing anything about it, because you can't. You crawled in bed with me…"_

 _I don't want to say this shit. I don't fucking mean it. You were perfect and I tried to give you a perfect moment, but I'm ruined. There's no good left in me and I have to push you away before I ruin you._

" _STOP IT!" She screamed tears streaming down her face._

 _Her body language was defeated, grip on the gun limp as he took it away from her. "Kate…"_

 _I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. This was worse. This was so much worse than I thought it would be. His own heart was halting, skipping beats in his chest. He wanted to take it all back. Explain how he was just a broken asshole and how he really did want her, but she was too good for him._

" _Just leave me alone."_

 _She cried in the bathroom for over an hour and he listened to every tear, hating himself more and more with every minute. Finally he banged his knuckles on the door, "Come on Princess, times up, we need to hit the road."_

 _She walked out of the bathroom, her red-rimmed eyes glaring at him, "You really are a fucking bastard."_

" _That I am." He'd fall into that needle tonight and make all of this go away._

.:.

"All done, Sugar. How are you doing?" Abigail wiped down his skin carefully. "You've barely said a word this whole time."

Seth shrugged, "I'm good. Not much of a talker."

She covered the area with a bandage, "That I highly doubt."

He pulled his pants back up, wincing as he fastened them.

"Gonna be sensitive for a minute." She handed him back him the cross back, "She must have been very special. Regret and pain like this… You loved her."

"I did. 'Broke her heart because of it and never made it right. Now the best I can do is bury what's left of her." He handed her a stack of bills and walked out of the shop with _her_ cross wrapped around his hand.

He kept that gold chain on his hand the entire drive back to Bethel. He picked the lock on the church door (really something wrong about doing that) and forced himself to walk up the aisle and lay the last piece of her in that coffin. He stared at that gold cross laying on that white satin pillow and all he could think about was how it looked on her the last time he saw her. "You said that you loved me that night after we…" His confession echoed in the empty church, "You were pretty much asleep, laying in my arms and you said that you loved me. And I…I panicked..." He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. "See everyone I ever loved either fu…screwed me or I screwed them. So when you said that, I just needed to get you away from me, so I couldn't ruin you. I didn't mean any of that sh…stuff that I said. Although you really should have shot me." He chuckled despite the tightness in his throat.

"I didn't see you as a kid, I swear. You were perfect; this beautiful woman that let me love her and for some reason you thought you loved me. I laid there in the dark, watching you and I imaged what our life coulda been. I let myself imagine you pulling jobs at my side, meeting my Uncle, settling down, and hell even kids, Ka…" He rubbed his hands over his face, ignoring the wetness on his palms.

"I let myself imagine all of it; then I broke your heart. Because I'm a selfish fucking bastard and I'm sorry… I'm sorry for swearing in your church. I'm sorry for things I said that morning. I'm sorry I broke your heart. I'm sorry for the drugs. I'm sorry for scaring you. I'm sorry I abandoned you on that road." He could feel tears running down his face, he'd never let himself cry over her. "I'm sorry for kidnapping you and your family. I'm so sorry for everything."

He heard a throat clear at the back of the church and he was staring at the pastor of the church. Seth wiped off his faced and trudged the long aisle from the front of the church to the doors.

When he reached the pastor the older man admonished, "I'd get out of town if I were you, son. I heard enough of that to know that what you fed me before was a line of bullshit."

Seth's hand twitched, reflexively, but he wasn't gonna shoot a pastor in a church. There was damned and then there was Damned, he didn't want to be in the latter category.

"But son, I also heard enough to know that your remorse is genuine." He held the door open for Seth.

Seth nodded and stepped out into the night air.

"Mr. Parker, or whatever your name is, just know that Kate was the type of the girl who would have forgiven you, so you best honor that memory and live right."

"I really wish I knew how." Seth threw himself into his car and started the drive back to the hotel.

He got back to the motel and told Richie to drive them back to Jed's. They nearly got into a fist fight over Seth's insistence on their leaving right then. Richie tried to talk to him as they made their way back to Jed's but Seth feigned sleep, not that it got his brother to stop talking.

"Can you just tell me why we're leaving in the middle of the night?"

"So you don't burn up." Seth shifted down in the seat.

"It's raining tomorrow; I would have been fine. It's only direct sunlight that I have to worry about." The street light they passed reflected off Richie's glasses. "Why didn't we stay for the service? We should have stayed for that." Richie complained despondently.

"Pastor made me."

"Bullshit. There's no way some pastor in a podunk town made you."

"I put the cross in her coffin, he came in while I was saying goodbye." Seth grunted.

"How did one more year in Catholic school give you the constant need for confession?" Richie shifted gears and admitted, "Did you ever think that maybe, I wanted to say goodbye? Maybe I wanted to go to Kate's…"

"Please, don't say her name, Richie, please." He wasn't above pleading. He just couldn't hear her name.

"Seth…"

"You don't know what I did to her."

Richie's voice was full of genuine concern. "You want to talk about it?"

"No. I really don't." Seth turned his body towards the window and clamped his eyes closed.

"You didn't kill her, Seth. Carlos killed her."

Seth didn't answer, instead his eyes flicked to his watch: four minutes to the top of the hour. For the last month at least once a day he'd taken four minutes to remember all the shit he put her through, but maybe this once…

He let himself remember her laugh when she was pushing back and not taking his crap. He let himself remember her soft smile when he caught her looking at him. He allowed his fingers to twitch, the sense memory of her skin under his palms, lingering… exploring… He breathed in deep, nostrils recalling coconut, sunscreen, and the essence of her. His mouth went dry the taste of her skin and tequila like a phantom on his tongue. Every good memory, every good moment, the feeling of being inside of her, touching her, tasting her, hearing her, seeing her; it was all blurring together….

"Hey, we're back." Richie shoved at his shoulder.

He must have fallen asleep. Couldn't remember the last time he fell asleep without alcohol.

As they walked through Jed's, Richie remarked, "We should have stayed."

"It wasn't for us." Seth grumbled, hitting the button for the elevator.

"Funerals are for the living, that's the point." Richie sighed.

"I didn't say it wasn't for the living. I said it wasn't for us." Seth got on the elevator and they rode down to the lower level. He made to his door and looked back at Richie, "Sorry I drug you there, just to drag you away. I shoulda let you stay. I just need to fucking sleep, okay?"

"Just actually sleep for once and we're straight." Richie requested, "I mean it. Honestly Seth, I'm worried about you brother."

"I'll be fine." He closed the door behind him and set his pistol and wallet on his nightstand. The pistol looked... it was just odd to see it without her cross wrapped around the hilt. He knew he did the right thing; had to let it go.

He was grateful to be in his own space and stripped his clothes off, slowly peeling the bandage away from his skin. The reflection in the mirror showed the level of detail in the tiny gold cross and chain, it was a perfect duplicate of the one that was going to buried in Bethel, TX under the headstone that read: "Kathryn Grace Fuller Beloved Daughter, Sister & Friend".

"I'm so sorry, Kate" He whispered aloud, it was the first time he'd spoken her name since he found out about her death. He collapsed on his bed, ignoring the tears running down his face as he finally let his body shut down and rest.


End file.
